


Painted Blind

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Injury, Injury Recovery, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 17:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20429921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: A werewolf hunt goes wrong, leading to a tough recovery.





	Painted Blind

Her legs ached, every bruise and cut making itself known as she ran through the woods, dodging branches and trying to keep her sights on her target. The wolf was yards ahead, his legs carrying him faster; she had to take the shot and hope she didn’t miss.

Raising her gun, Y/N aimed, firing wildly. The bullet clipped the werewolf’s calf and he went down with a roar of pain. She didn’t waste time, catching up quickly and putting a final bullet through his heart.

The second werewolf came out of nowhere, taking her off of her feet. Pain exploded across her chest and abdomen, a scream tearing from her throat. The beast reared back, snapping its jaws, ready to bite her.

It never got the chance.

A bullet tore through its chest, exploding pieces of flesh outward, splattering Y/N with more blood. She barely noticed, the pain all she could focus on.

“Y/N!” The corpse was heavy on top of her when it slumped forward but she was already losing consciousness. Dean’s voice echoed in her head and Y/N let her head roll to the side, her eyes falling shut.

Dean skidded to the floor beside her, hauling the dead monster off of her, shoving him as far away as possible. He leaned over Y/N’s body, horror filling his face at the sight of her torn open chest, bad enough that he could see the white bone underneath. 

“Dean!” Sam’s panicked yell carried through the trees, preceding his arrival by seconds. His feet crunched through the leaves as he took in the sight of two dead werewolves and his brother, leaning over Y/N’s immobile body. “Shit -”

“She’s breathing,” Dean murmured, shaking his head as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, pressing the latter against her bloodied chest. “I don’t… I don’t think she’s -”

“I’ll get the car,” Sam insisted, taking the keys from his brother’s jacket, not looking back as he sprinted toward where Dean had parked the Impala only an hour before. As he reached the car, the heavens opened, rain soaking him before he could get the door open.

Dean was already waiting with Y/N in his arms, her body limp in his hold, jacket covering her from the rain. Sam pulled the car as close as he could, jumping out to open the back door for his brother, closing it once he’d slid into the backseat.

“Step on it, Sam,” Dean growled.

“Hospital?” Sam’s eyes met Dean’s in the rear-view mirror, his brother’s grim nod making his stomach churn. He didn’t speak again, putting his foot on the gas pedal to leave the woods behind.

*****

“She's sedated," the doctor droned, not even looking at them as he reeled off the treatment they’d given her. Y/N was unconscious, wired and intubated in the hospital bed and Dean was hating every second of the experience. His hand held hers, his eyes fixed on her face, just waiting for her to wake up and tell him to get her the hell out of there.

It had been a long six hours while she’d been in surgery. The longest six hours of his life.

“Dean?”

The doctor was gone, leaving them alone in the room. Looking up, Dean gave his brother an exhausted look that made Sam sit back, sympathy on his face.

“You didn’t -”

“Don’t,” Dean grunted, cutting him off. “Don’t tell me it’s not my fault. If I’d been quicker -”

“You don’t know that,” Sam chided softly. 

“Two inches lower and that thing would have gutted her,” Dean spat, leaning forward, his hold on Y/N’s hand tightening. “We’re lucky the hospital even had her blood type.”

Getting to his feet, Sam shook his head. “The doctor said she’s gonna be fine. They just wanna keep her sedated for the pain, at least until tomorrow.” Running a hand over his face, he sighed, fixing Dean with a look that the older man ignored. “I’m gonna go and get some coffee. Think about getting some rest?”

Dean made a non-committal noise, not bothering to look up as Sam left the room. Leaning his head on their joined hands, he stifled a sob, unable to voice the feelings locked in his chest. He’d almost lost her. He should have been faster, smarter… even if they all understood what the job could entail, Dean felt like he’d failed her.

She’d probably scold him for feeling that way.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled her scent, his hand still holding onto hers. The rhythm of her heart was measured by the machine beside her bed, beeping steadily as she slept under the influence of the sedative. Slowly, Dean drifted off, a dreamless sleep born of exhaustion.

The door closing woke him and he lifted his head groggily, squinting at the bright sunshine coming in through the blinds. A nurse was in the room, checking over Y/N’s vitals, and Dean frowned, wondering where his brother was. Noticing he was awake, the nurse smiled at him. “She’s doing well this morning,” she commented; Dean blinked at her, processing the statement slowly.

Sam returned only a moment later, dark circles underneath his eyes. He’d obviously gone back to the motel and changed his clothing, although it didn’t look like he’d gotten much sleep.

“The doctor will be round shortly,” the nurse informed them both, smiling nervously as the two men crowded the small space. She retreated, closing the door behind her, and Sam approached Dean, handing over the coffee he’d brought him.

“Thanks,” Dean muttered, casting his gaze back to Y/N. “The nurse said she’s doing good. Where’d you get to?”

“Sleep,” Sam grunted back. “Went back out and burned the bodies. Cleaned up the car. Showered.” He wrinkled his nose as he sat down next to his brother. “Which you could do, you know. She’s not going anywhere.”

Dean opened his mouth, ready to argue that he wasn’t going to leave her, until he realized the state of himself. No wonder the nurse had looked so damn nervous. His clothes stank, undershirt still splattered with blood and his hair was plastered down with perspiration from where he’d slept in an awkward position.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about the shower,” he mumbled, not meeting Sam’s eyes as he sipped the coffee. “You’ll stay with her?”

Sam didn’t answer verbally, looking at Dean like he’d asked one of the stupidest things possible. A smirk twitched Dean’s lips at his brother’s bitch-face and he got to his feet, leaning over to kiss Y/N on the forehead.

“I won’t be long, sweetheart.”

*****

She still wasn’t awake when Dean returned an hour later. He’d eaten and showered, passing on the sleep until he had her back home. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone without sleep for extended periods.

Sam was reading a newspaper, his eyebrows knitted together as he scanned articles, looking up at the last second when Dean tossed him a pre-packaged sandwich from the hospital store. “Thanks.”

“Any change?”

“Vitals are good but… no,” Sam sighed, sitting forward. “She’s gonna wake up, you know. Just give her a chance to start healing.”

Dean’s eyes glanced over the bandages covering Y/N’s chest, blood already seeping through the stark white. He’d never shake the image of her torn and bloodied skin, the bone peeking through the wound at the deepest point. Sitting down, he clutched the sandwich he’d bought for himself, trying to keep his hands from shuddering.

The machine started to beep a little faster, making both men sit up, food and newspaper discarded. A low moan rattled in Y/N’s throat around the tube, her eyes fluttering as she started to wake. On cue, the door opened, two nurses and an intern rushing in, pushing both Dean and Sam out of the way.

There were a few moments of confusion, all three of the medical staff blocking Dean’s view. He hovered on the edge of the room, face pale as he waited, senses overwhelmed and unable to pick out specific words from what the nurses were saying.

Finally, a choked cough cut through the haze and the intern moved, giving Dean an unobstructed view of her face. They’d removed the tube, leaving her lips chapped as she tried to speak, an impossible task for her dry throat.

“Ice chips,” one of the nurses offered, a paper cup in her hands. The other nurse raised the bed to a reclining position but when Y/N lifted one arm, she whimpered in pain, the limb only coming off the bed a few inches. The cup was pressed to her lips, allowing a few chips to fall into her mouth; her head fell back at the soothing chill, letting her arms go limp again.

The intern stepped back, looking over at Dean with a hesitant smile. “Give her a few minutes, I’ll go find Dr. Benson.”

Dean gave her a nod in agreement, his attention entirely on Y/N as the nurses checked her over, making notes. The intern disappeared, leaving Dean room to move back to the side of the bed, sitting down in the chair again.

Y/N blinked, almost as if she’d just noticed him, the sedative still making her a little drowsy. One nurse left, the other still administering medication through the IV hooked into Y/N’s left arm. She winced as the liquid reached her veins - Dean took her hand, offering her a small smile in reassurance.

“You’re still gonna feel a little sleepy,” the nurse crooned, patting her other hand. “And don’t try to lift your arms - the stitches are going to pull.”

“Thank you,” Sam murmured, watching the nurse leave. The door clicked shut behind her, bathing the room in silence filled with the quiet hums and beeps of the machines. Y/N dragged in a breath, eyes fixed on Dean as he stared at her.

“Werewolf?” she croaked quietly.

“Dead,” he replied, bottom lip wobbling. “I’m sorry -”

Her face screwed up. “Don’t do that,” she whispered. “Don’t blame yourself. These things happen.” Pausing, she smiled at him. “To us, anyway.” Dean leaned forward, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. 

“We’re just glad you’re gonna be okay,” Sam said, catching her attention.

“What’s the recovery time?” Y/N asked but Sam shrugged. “Okay. I can work with that.” Her eyes closed, head rolling on the pillow. “These painkillers are a trip.”

“Save your energy,” Dean mumbled, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. “As soon as you say the word, we’ll take you home.”

*****

Three days passed before Y/N felt up to “escaping”. They hadn’t managed to avoid a visit from animal control officers, wanting to know what attacked them in the woods. Luckily, the doctors backed their claims of a wolf attack and the officers warned them not to hike so far into the woods again.

The drive back to Kansas was a long one, most of which Y/N spent on the backseat, asleep on a padding of sleeping bags and sweaters, the old beige blanket from the trunk covering her. Dean drove slowly, not wanting to jostle the car or her, constantly glancing in the rear-view mirror like she might disappear.

Sam took over driving halfway home and Dean occupied the front seat, sitting at an angle so he could keep an eye on her.

He didn’t dare fall asleep himself, no matter how much Sam told him to get some rest.

By the time Sam was pulling the Impala into the bunker garage, the sun was starting to lift over the horizon, bathing Lebanon in orangey-gold and yellow. Y/N stirred only a little when Dean gently lifted her from the backseat, carrying her through to her bedroom.

In truth, he wanted her in his room, with him, right by his side so he didn’t have to worry, but their relationship was still on the newer side of new. She’d only been living with them for a few months, both of them slow to connect with their feelings. 

Dean still hadn’t figured out how to tell her how much he cared about her.

Laying her down on her bed, Dean made sure she was comfortable before checking her wounds. He’d had to watch the nurses when they changed the gauze, making sure he stole exactly the right medicines from the hospital before they absconded. Y/N wouldn’t let Sam see her in any state of undress, so it was left to Dean to make sure her bandages were changed seeing as she couldn’t do it herself.

She’d already expressed her frustration at the slowness of her recovery.

Without waking her, Dean got her shoes off, leaving her in the loose yoga pants and his stolen Jimi Hendrix shirt, miles too big for her. When he was done, he stepped back, not wanting to leave but not wanting to encroach on her territory.

“Dean?”

Her eyes didn’t open but her tone was clear. “I’m here,” he murmured, sitting down on the side of her bed.

“Don’t go.” Moving her arm slowly and as far as she could, she stretched out her fingers toward his. Dean smiled, closing the distance between them, laying down on the bed next to her. Y/N remained on her back, although she twitched, wanting to get closer. “It hurts,” she whispered.

“I know,” he hushed, moving so he could slide his arm underneath her neck, careful not to move her too much. “I’m gonna stay, okay?” She nodded, turning her head towards him, seeking out his warmth as best she could. Eventually, she dozed off again, and this time, Dean followed.

*****

“Okay.”

Dean stood up straight, pleased with his work, turning to Y/N for her approval. She was propped up on the bed, looking miserable, on day four of bedrest. His idea to brighten her mood was to bring his television in from the Dean Cave and catch up on all the movies and shows they hadn’t watched.

“What do you think?”

Y/N pulled a face. “I hate this.”

His expression was sympathetic. “I know.” Crossing the room back to her side, he sat down, taking her hand where it rested limply on the bed. “Sam’s still trying to get hold of Cas.” She didn’t react, glumly keeping her chin tucked into her chest. Dean sighed, stroking her fingers. “Y/N -”

“Please don’t,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I just wanna sulk, okay? This sucks and… it hurts.”

“You want some more painkillers.”

“I don’t like feeling so dopey.”

“It’ll help.”

She pouted, not looking at him. “I don’t like being this helpless.”

“It’s not forever, you know that.” Dean forced a smile onto his face. “You should make the most of being waited on hand and foot.” The expression on her features didn’t change, leaving him lost for what else to say. “Y/N, you know, whatever you need, I’m here.”

“I know,” she mumbled, still averting her eyes.

Getting up, Dean crossed the room, grabbing the medical supplies. “Need to change those bandages, baby,” he murmured, returning to her side. Y/N sighed heavily, rolling her head to look at him, a sad smile on her face.

“Sure.”

He smiled, mustering up courage where she had none left. Silently, he settled beside her, opening the kit and pulling out the things he needed. His fingers shook a little when he reached over to touch her, gently peeling away the gauze, wincing when she did.

“Ow,” she mumbled as the gauze came away sticky.

“Sorry.” Dean kept going, rolling it back, taking the first layer off and tossing it into the bin. His eyes raked over the healing wound, satisfied to see the edges pinking, no fresh blood or pus around it. “It’s healing really well,” he murmured. “Is it itchy?” She nodded and he smiled, starting work on the next round of gauze. “We’ve got some ointment for that.”

Working away quietly, Dean paused every few minutes to check on her. Each time, she was looking away, eyes pinched shut, jaw tight with what was obvious pain. He wanted to stop, hated that he was causing her even the slightest discomfort, but the wounds were still deep, despite the stitches, and leaving the gauze on too long would increase the chances of infection.

Finally, the last piece came away, landing in the bin with a thud. Dean cleaned his hands off with the antiseptic wash in the kit, before pulling out the new gauze and fresh tape.

“Can we… can we stop a minute?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he replied, putting the gauze down once he’d neatly cut the strips. Y/N watched him, biting her bottom lip. “You okay?”

“I wanted some air on it. It’s been really hot and uncomfortable. Y’know, even more than what you’d expect with a gaping hole in your chest.”

Dean smiled, inspecting her wound again. “You’re doing okay, sweetheart.”

“How much longer do you think I’ll be an invalid?” she joked, mustering a small smile. Taking her hand, Dean turned it slowly, watching her for any sign of discomfort.

“That hurt you two days ago,” he pointed out, satisfied when her smile grew. “You watch,” he promised, “we’ll be laughing about this when we’re old and grey.”

She giggled lightly. “Optimism, Mr. Winchester?”

Dean grinned, leaning down to kiss her fingertips. “Absolutely.”

*****

The first jerk of his shoulder shook her awake. Frowning in the darkness, Y/N listened, hearing Dean’s rapid breathing, the way his fingers clenched around the pillow. He was on his front, his bare back starting to come into focus against the white of the bedsheets; Y/N shifted awkwardly onto her elbows, lifting herself as far as she could.

“Dean?”

He whimpered in fright, a sound that chilled her to the bone. Her fingers twitched - if she could just lift her arm and reach over, she could wake him.

It was stupid to attempt it. Lifting her arm was harder than she thought it ever could be, like being weighed down under concrete. She hadn’t been able to use it in over a week now since the accident and the doctor had warned her about muscle weakness.

Dean cried out in pain and her heart rate picked up. “Dean,” she called again, shaking her body from side to side as hard as she could. The action made her stitches pull and she yelped in pain, tears instantly leaking from the corners of her eyes.

Her pained sound woke Dean instantly - he was lifting himself up before he’d even opened his eyes, staring at her in horror. “Y/N?”

“You -” She hissed, clenching her fists. “You were having a nightmare.”

For a second, she saw the horror of it still lingering in his eyes but then it was gone, all memory taken with it. “It’s nothing,” he promised, checking her over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine… I just…” It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed but it was the first time Y/N had woken while he’d been asleep. “It sounded like you were terrified.” Silence met her statement and Dean’s gaze dropped to the bed. “Dean, if you need to talk -”

“M’not gonna unload on you when you’re under enough stress,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “You should rest.”

Y/N stared at him for a second before nodding. “Can I have some painkillers?”

Dean smiled. “Sure.”

*****

Sam’s hands were huge. She couldn’t stop staring at them. Dean’s hands weren’t that big. What did he feed his “little” brother growing up?

“What was that?” Sam asked and Y/N’s eyes widened, the realization that she’d spoken aloud making her panic.

“I just -” Her words failed, coming out as sputtered vowels and Sam chuckled, obviously amused. “I had a lot of painkillers.”

He smirked, curling her fingers into her palm. “Okay, can you tighten your fist for me?”

“That’s what he said,” Dean announced, walking into the bedroom. Y/N brightened, smiling at him. “Wow, how many drugs did you take? You look high as fuck, babe.” She continued to grin, tightening her hand as much as she could.

The muscles stretched, pulling on her wounds and she yelped, instantly relaxing her fingers. “That’s hurts,” she complained and Sam sighed.

“Maybe that’s enough for today. Dean needs to change your bandages.” He stood up, flashing his brother a grin. “She’s all yours.”

“Damn straight,” the elder man grunted, grabbing the medical kit from the dresser. 

“Sam!” Y/N called, making him halt at the door. “I just… you know it’s not… I just don’t want you to see me like that.”

“I know,” Sam assured, smiling. “I’m not holding it against you.”

Dean frowned. “I don’t particularly want him seeing my girlfriend topless,” he pointed out, and Sam laughed, shaking his head as he walked away. Y/N grinned, leaning back a little more into her pillows, watching Dean walk around the bed. “You are high as a kite, sweetheart.”

“Still hurts,” she growled.

He smirked, arching an eyebrow in her direction. “It’s gonna.” He sat down on the bed with a sigh, leaning over her with one arm. “But you’re alive. That’s what counts, right?” She shrugged ever-so-slightly, still wincing at the slight pull. “You want me to sleep in here tonight?”

A frown replaced the wince. “What?”

Dean shifted a little uncomfortably. “I woke you up last night.”

“You didn’t mean to,” she chided. “You were having a nightmare.” That remembrance of whatever horror he was going through flashed in his eyes and she was more determined than ever that they not sleep alone. “I’m not gonna make you talk about it, Dean. But…”

“It’s nothing you wanna know,” he muttered.

“I guessed that. I haven’t seen half the things you have. I still struggle to believe some of them.” Moving her hand slightly, she managed to grab his thumb, squeezing as hard as she could. “I’m here if you need a sounding board.”

“The nightmares aren’t the problem,” he said, refusing to look her in the eye. “The problem is watching you like this every day. Knowing that -”

The disgusted noise she made cut him off. “Jeez, Dean. You’re still blaming yourself for this?” He blinked, taken aback by her response. “This was not your fault. I’m a hunter. I knew what I was getting into. I chased after the damn wolf by myself!”

She was getting worked up and he could see it. “Y/N -”

“No,” her hands balled into fists, anger overriding pain for just a minute, “I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you blame yourself when you didn’t do this to me!” She jerked her thumb towards her chest, instantly screaming in pain as she tore the stitches holding the largest of her wounds together.

Dean panicked, pulling her arm down, eyes widening at the fresh blood starting to seep through the wound. “Shit, shit, Sam!”

“No!” she squealed, “I don’t want him in here!” The bandages were swiftly turning red and Dean started to peel them off, grabbing fresh gauze to stem the bleeding. A knock on the door signaled Sam’s arrival. “Go away!” Y/N screeched.

“It’s okay, Sam!” Dean called, not taking his attention off of the bleeding wound. It was already starting to slow and he exhaled softly, glad it wasn’t much worse.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure!”

“Okay.” The youngest Winchester’s footsteps echoed along the corridor. After a few moments, Dean pulled the gauze away, grimacing at the amount of blood but thankful it seemed to have stopped.

“I don’t think you tore it too badly,” he muttered, dabbing away the fresh red. Y/N whimpered, looking down. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as she laid back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m gonna blame myself no matter what you say, you know,” he started, watching her closely. “Warned you about it before the start. Doesn’t matter if it’s you, Sam, Cas… I’ll feel responsible if anyone I loved got hurt.”

There was a second where what he’d said didn’t quite sink it. Then it hit like a ton of bricks and her head lifted, eyes meeting his in surprise. “You… you what?”

“You really gonna make me say it again?” Dean quipped. “I’m really not good at these chick flick moments.”

She smiled at that, blinking away tears. “You’re a dope.” He chuckled, starting about the task of cleaning and redressing the wound. “Am I gonna need more stitches?” Dean shook his head, offering a hesitant grin. “That’s good. Wish I could have a shower.”

Laughing, Dean leaned over, kissing her softly. “You’re lucky that the Dean Winchester turn-down service comes with a complimentary sponge bath.”

*****

She couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the pain or Dean’s soft snoring next to her. Everything itched and being immobile for so long was starting to drive her crazy.

Leaning slowly to the side, Y/N rolled herself out of bed, catching herself with her feet. The over-sized shirt hung to her knees, covering her modesty, and for a second, she collected her bearings, wobbling a little as she straightened.

For the last three weeks, she’d relied on Dean for getting around. She was sick of having to ask him to take her to the bathroom, to help her wash, to feed her. But now, she was starting to get the movement back in her arms without pain.

Making her way to the door, she opened it, wincing at the pull of her unused muscles. The door creaked as it opened and with one short glance to check Dean was still sleeping, Y/N crept out into the hallway, bare feet making a soft sound against the tiles.

There was a light on in the library when she approached, surprised to see Sam sitting at one of the tables, reading through a thick tome and furiously scribbling notes on a large pad of paper.

“Sam?” she croaked, moving slowly toward him.

The younger Winchester looked up, eyes wide at the sight of her. “Y/N. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” She sighed, holding her hands outspread at her sides in lieu of a shrug. “Restless. I’m sick of that bed.”

Sam chuckled at that, pulling out a chair for her so she could sit down. Padding to the chair, Y/N lowered herself into it, shifting until she could lean back comfortably. “Dean said you weren’t sleeping well. Is it hurting still?”

“No,” she shook her head lightly, “it’s just itchy and… tight, I guess. Healing.”

The gauze had stopped being helpful days before and now it was only the bare wound again the shirt, which increased the itchiness. But she was grateful she didn’t have to deal with the sticky black tar left behind by the tape.

“It’ll get better quickly now,” Sam advised her, leaning on one elbow. “You’re past all the worst of it and there’s not much chance of infection now it’s closed. Just gotta get your muscles back up to scratch.”

Y/N nodded, looking away, clearly thinking about something else. “I know,” she mused. “But -” Falling silent, she chewed her bottom lip, glancing at her boyfriend’s brother warily. “I don’t think I wanna hunt anymore.”

Sam blinked in surprise, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“This is the worst injury I’ve ever had,” she conceded. “I wasn’t in the big leagues before I met you guys. I stuck to spirits and ghouls… the odd vampire if it wasn’t a nest. Werewolves weren’t my thing - I’m not big and strong like you two.”

“You’re plenty strong, Y/N,” Sam said softly, tilting his head in sympathy. “I can help you train if you like.”

She shook her head, denying his offer. “I’m happy with myself. I know I can handle a lot more than other people, I just think I should take a step back from the big stuff. The more… eat you whole kinda monster.”

“Is this because of Dean’s nightmares?”

The shock on her face at his question made it obvious that Dean hadn’t disclosed the contents of his frequent dreams to her. Sam stuttered, unsure if he should say any more on the subject.

“His… his nightmares?” Y/N repeated quietly, eyes narrowing. “They’re about me?”

“No!” Sam denied, lying through his teeth. She picked up on it, her frown increasing. “I mean -”

“He’s having nightmares about this? Because he still blames himself?”

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a split second, dropping his chin into his chest. “I can’t… if he didn’t want you to know, it’s for a good reason. But Dean always blames himself. If there’s guilt to attribute, he’ll take it, it’s just who he is.” He lifted his gaze to her, eyes wet with emotion. “It doesn’t matter if we tell him it isn’t his fault, he’ll always believe it is.”

Y/N’s mouth set into a thin line as she contemplated his words, the irritation on her face obvious to see. “He’s a goddamn pain in the ass.”

The burst of laughter that came from Sam surprised even him. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed, nodding. “Hey, look, while you’re up, why don’t we do some more of those therapy exercises? Might tire you out enough to sleep.”

She smiled, nodding. “That sounds good.”

*****

The mirror mocked her silently, reflecting the ugly pink scars that covered her chest. Three jagged lines, forever etched into her skin to remind her of how close she’d come to not being there at all. The thinnest of the three stretched from her left shoulder to the right side of her collarbone, almost like a lightning strike.

She could have lived with that one.

The second was only marginally shorter than the first but was thinner, a more shallow gash than the other two. It curved from her shoulder to the top of her sternum, fading faster than the other two did.

But the third was the one she hated most.

It started by her armpit, ensuring she’d feel it whenever the skin was pulled tight. A thick band of pink scarred flesh led to a thinner line across her breast, becoming deeper as it plunged down to the middle of her sternum. That was where it had been deepest, deep enough to see the white of her bone.

While the other two would eventually fade to silver, barely-there remnants, the third would always be thick-ridged on her skin, making her shudder in repulse at the way it had maimed her. The wolf had changed her, not only rendering her weak and helpless for weeks on end, it had left her with a permanent reminder.

She was hideous.

The door opened and Y/N turned, scrambling for her shirt as Dean walked in, texting on his phone. He glanced up just as the fabric dropped down over her bare breasts.

“Did I miss a show?” he teased, raising an eyebrow, tongue tucked behind his teeth.

Y/N smiled weakly. “No. Not in the slightest.” The disappointment on his face cut her almost as deep as the werewolf had; she crossed the room and flopped onto the bed, watching him kick off his boots. “You don’t have to stay here tonight, if you don’t want,” she whispered, curling into the covers.

Dean froze, meeting her eyes in concern. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

God, she hated it. She knew what kind of creature Dean was - he had a high sex drive, even for a dude in his late thirties. And right now, Y/N couldn’t bear the thought of him touching her, seeing how disfigured she was.

“I just thought you might wanna get out for a bit,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “You’ve been stuck in here as much as I have.”

Frowning, Dean finished kicking off his boots, moving to sit on the bed beside her. His back was hunched as he twisted his torso to look at her, while keeping his feet firmly on the ground. “Have I upset you?”

“No,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I just don’t want you to… be bored. Or something. I don’t know.” Rolling onto her back, she sighed, lifting her right arm and draping it over her face. Looking at him while she spoke was too hard. “I know I’m not giving you what you need -”

“You’re insane,” Dean replied, moving to lay down, facing her fully. “You think because I’m not getting laid I’m gonna wander off?”

Y/N sighed, unable to give an answer that wouldn’t be a positive confirmation of his statement. What was she supposed to say? That she couldn’t stand how she’d been left, how hideous she was now and how she didn’t know if she’d ever want another human being to see her naked?

“That’s what you think, huh?” he murmured, the hurt on his face evident when Y/N moved her arm and looked at him. Tears were already wetting the corners of her eyes, slipping down to pool uncomfortably behind her ear. “Baby, this - what we have? It’s more than sex.”

She didn’t know if that was true. For all she knew, Dean only stayed because he felt guilty, wrongly so, but guilty all the same. He felt like this state she was in was his fault, therefore he was obliged to keep up the pretense.

“I’m holding you back,” she mumbled. “You were upset when I told you I’m not gonna hunt any more. You won’t tell me what your nightmares are about. And…” He waited, wanting her to say what he knew she was thinking. “These scars are hideous. I’m hideous.”

Dean’s expression morphed into something unreadable and Y/N’s stomach churned uncomfortably. His entire body was tense, almost vibrating as he shifted closer, reaching out with one hand to place it on her opposing hip.

“You’re not hideous,” he chided. “But you are a moron.”

She couldn’t help but take offense, pulling back to scowl at him. “What?”

“You’re a moron,” Dean repeated, fingers clenching on her hip. “I don’t care about scars, sweetheart. Hell, you’ve seen mine.”

“Yours are smaller,” she pointed out, making him roll his eyes in irritation. “That’s not the point, Dean.”

“Then what’s your point? You think I’m shallow? That I can’t keep it in my pants long enough for the woman I love to recover from nearly dying?” Dean’s face was twisted now, his frustration pouring off of him, enough to almost distract her from his second declaration, his raised voice emphasizing his emotions. “Jesus, darlin’, what do you think my nightmares are about? I almost lost you.”

Silence followed his outburst, the sound of his words ringing in her ears as she stared at him. Moisture shone in his eyes, his gaze locked on hers. When his hand cupped her face, she jumped, uncertain at the touch.

“Sex with you is fantastic,” he murmured, “but everything else? Is better than that. Just being with you, sleeping next to you, knowing you’re alive and here and…” His words became throttled as he struggled to contain his anguish. “There isn’t anything about you I won’t love forever, Y/N. I need you to know that.”

Y/N hiccuped a sob, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Dean wiped them away, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. She responded, still crying into his hold. He didn’t speak again, folding his arms around her and letting her cry herself to sleep.

*****

She woke alone, curled on her side, the pillow next to her still holding a lingering warmth from where Dean had occupied the space. Stretching, Y/N yawned widely, curling her toes before sitting up. The bedroom door was wide open and she could hear music floating down the hallway.

Her cell informed her of the early afternoon hour, along with three dozen notifications she could care less about, so she tossed it onto the bed and climbed off, bare feet hitting the chilling floor. 

Following the music, she caught the scent of bacon as she stepped out into the hallway, sniffing to inhale more of the delicious smell. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, she was surprised to see Dean in front of the stove, bacon sizzling away in the pan he held.

He was singing along to the radio; Y/N didn’t recognize the song but she knew the band. His favorite, of course, Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant’s distinct vocals filling the room. Dean was off key like usual, singing more for fun than anything else.

“Good morning,” she giggled, making him turn in surprise. 

“Hey!” He dropped the pan onto the stove top, turning the heat down before turning fully and crossing the room to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist, tilting her head up so he could kiss her chastely, “I slept well.”

Dean grinned, swaying her slightly in his hold, jerking his head to indicate the bacon. “I cooked breakfast.”

“Wouldn’t that be lunch?” Sam interjected, walking into the kitchen and bypassing the public display of affection by the door. “You slept all morning.” Y/N blinked at him, scowling. “No judgement. I just don’t know how you can sleep through the bag of cats Dean was swinging around in here.”

A loud ‘hey’ demonstrated Dean’s objection but Y/N was too busy laughing at his indignation, slipping from his hold. “He’s not a bad singer,” she defended, making her way to the table. Sam shrugged, picking up the coffee pot to pour a fresh cup.

Returning to the stove, Dean turned it off, turning the bacon once more in the pan before transferring it to the waiting plate on the counter-top.

“I found a case,” Sam said quietly, directing the statement toward his brother. “It’s nothing big, thought I could get one of the others on it.”

Y/N’s eyes met her lover’s, the expression on his face reminiscent of a scolded child. “It’s okay,” she whispered, smiling a little hesitantly. “You’ve been stuck here for over a month. I know you get antsy.”

“I’m not leaving unless you’re 100% on this, sweetheart,” Dean advised, placing the bacon on the table next to the fresh bread Sam had picked up on the way home from his run.

“It’s local, if that helps. We’ll be gone a day, two at the most,” Sam offered, sipping his drink. “I think it’s a shifter but it could be a ghoul.”

Dean looked to her again and Y/N smiled, snatching a piece of bread and some bacon. “Go,” she insisted. “I’ll be fine. I can eat junk food and watch reruns of whatever crap is on TV.” Smiling, Dean took the seat beside her, sitting closer than was probably necessary but she didn’t complain. His thigh was warm against hers and she leaned in, pressing their shoulders together.

“You’re awesome, you know that?” Dean said quietly, taking hold of her hand.

Y/N smiled back. “So someone keeps telling me.”

*****

A calloused hand sliding over her bare hip woke her and Y/N jerked in surprise, relaxing when she saw Dean smiling at her in the lamplight. “You startled me,” she admonished, smiling back at him, turning fully onto her back. Dean’s hand remained on the top of her thigh, sparking something hot in her belly.

“Didn’t mean to. Were you waiting up?”

“No,” Y/N yawned, covering her mouth. “I was too tired. What kept you?”

He shrugged and she noticed belatedly that he was naked to at least the waist. There were bruises spattered across his shoulder, spreading down his bicep; she frowned, giving him a concerned look. Dean glanced down before shaking his head.

“Shifter got a little rough,” he dismissed. “You should see the other guy.” Y/N giggled, leaning in to kiss him. The covers fell a little, revealing her partial nudity, making his eyes light up before hesitation replaced his intrigue. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded, remaining close to him, trying not to freak out. Her arms shielded his view of the scars on her chest but Dean wasn’t about to press her to show him. Instead, he kissed her again, softly, slowly, distracting her.

“Y/N,” he murmured, lips still brushing against hers. “You don’t have to -”

“Are you really gonna turn me down?” she teased, shifting a little closer, her hands sliding up to tangle in his short hair. “Because I’ve been having some very very naughty thoughts while you’ve been gone.”

Dean grinned, their noses bumping with her movement. “Care to elaborate?” He moved to reach past her for the light but she stopped him, smiling. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” she confirmed, leaning into him. His arm lowered, wrapping around her shoulders, his hand sliding down the length of her spine to find that underneath the covers, she was entirely nude.

“So you were waiting up for me?” he chuckled, fingers caressing the lower half of her back. Y/N smiled shyly, eyes shining as she looked up at him.

“Maybe.”

In the next second, she was swept away by the intensity of his next kiss. Although his touch was hesitant, like she might change her mind at any second, it was obvious how much he wanted her, a thought that made her heart pound harder.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured, pulling back to look down at her with darkened eyes. “Two days away from you, when we’ve been together non-stop.” He smirked, pushing hair out of her eyes. “Was like someone had torn a limb off.”

She gasped when his lower half ground in her, letting her know just how turned on he was. “Missed you too,” she hummed, tilting her head back as he kissed down her throat. His aroused growl vibrated against her skin, the sheet falling even lower, her bare breasts pressing into his equally bare chest. Her nipples hardened and Dean pulled back, looking down.

“Dean -” she whimpered, fingers in his hair as he moved further south, his mouth catching one hard nipple.

All thoughts of her scars left her mind, Dean’s tongue obliterating her doubts. His hands framed her breasts, teasing each pebbled nub in turn. Y/N whined loudly when he ran his teeth over the sensitive bud, groaning into her chest.

His fingers moved down, reaching around to grab her ass. She arched into his touch, dragging him back up into a deep kiss. “Don’t wanna play,” she whispered, “just want you inside me.”

Dean smirked. “You’re gonna be all tense, sweetheart,” he replied, one hand pressing between her thighs. “At least let me warm you up.” His fingers slid along her bare folds, his eyebrows shooting up in a second round of surprise when he found her smooth. “You…”

“I can actually shave things again,” she giggled, brushing her fingers over the stubble on his cheeks. “As for warming up…”

His fingertips slipped past her outer lips easily and Dean groaned when he discovered just how wet she was. “You started without me?” he scolded, pressing his fingers deeper into her pliant body. Y/N arched and whined, spreading her thighs a little further. “Oh, baby, you’re soaked.”

She was panting now, clutching his shoulder as he fucked her with two thick digits, moving them in a scissor-like motion to find that one spot inside her that made her toes curl. His name dropped from her lips in a chant, eyes squeezed tightly shut; Dean felt it when she lost control, her body clenching tightly around the intrusion of his fingers.

He withdrew when her legs started to shake, her breathing becoming ragged. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, her pupils were swollen in the low light, the colors around them sparkling. “You’re fucking beautiful,” Dean snarled, taking her in another deep kiss, hands cupping her face. He rolled them both, slotting himself between her thighs, using one hand to push his boxers down.

Y/N sucked in a breath when the thick head of his cock nudged her entrance, her legs automatically spreading in response. Dean kissed her again, his arms still holding her close, her arms just as tight around his shoulders.

With one stroke he was inside her, both of them panting at the sudden connection. Holding steady, Dean nuzzled his nose against her cheek, initiating another kiss that she melted into.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” The declaration was met with a smile, his eyes closing as he responded with a kiss. Y/N lifted her knees, wrapping her legs around his waist when he started to move, both of them pressed closely together. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her fingers buried in his hair; he was as close to her as any person could be.

They rocked slowly together, each stroke drawn out and agonisingly erotic. Y/N could feel the ridge of his cock as he pulled out, the thickness each time he penetrated her. She closed her eyes, tilting her chin up, giving Dean access to her throat.

He kissed the long scar that finished at her collarbone, breathing against her skin. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, receiving only a lingering moan in response. Her body tensed, her nails digging into his scalp as she quietly shuddered through her climax and Dean grunted, crashing their mouths together.

His climax quickly followed hers but they didn’t stop, slowing to a gentle hip-to-hip grind, still kissing. Neither of them wanted to part from the other, hands wandering where they pleased. Dean mapped her like he’d done many times before, his tactile nature needing to remember every inch of her; Y/N just wanted to feel him, there and real, and hers.

“We can’t sleep like this,” she pointed out, one thumb dragging along his full bottom lip.

“Shame,” Dean mumbled, leaning into her touch.

Begrudgingly, he moved, pulling away to roll to the side. Y/N turned, not resisting when Dean tugged her back into his protective embrace. There weren't words for how he felt right then but he was sure she could feel it, that warm satisfaction deep in his bones. His heart thudded as his body cooled - Y/N spread her fingers over his chest.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she whispered.

Dean kissed the top of her head. “I won’t if you don’t.”


End file.
